The Replicated Men
by Razzaroo
Summary: Sephiria Arks created 11 androids for Chronos. 11 perfect replicas of human beings programmed to be perfectly obedient to Chronos. At least, perfectly obedient until Number 13... Is self-determination a malfunction? Number 13's got it in his head that it's not and he's determined to prove it to the world. Android!AU
1. Chapter 1

**A/N. What am I doing with my life? I should be working on my current projects, not writing new ones. But, eh, I posted this to my Tumblr so I may as well post it here as well. I have other AUs planned as well but, if they ever see the light of day, it will be after House of Bones. Hmm, if and when I continue this, it would probably be more based on the anime rather than the manga. This little project is an experiment for me; I've never written anything like this before so I apologise in advance.**

* * *

To Sephiria's ears, the most wonderful sound in the world wasn't birds singing or a cat's purr or the sound of waves crashing on the shore. A lot of the women she'd gone to school with claimed that the first wheezy breathing of their children was the most wonderful sound they'd heard in their life. For Belze, it was the crackling of a fire.

But for Sephiria, the greatest sound she could ever hear was the whir in her androids' chests when she brought them to life for the first time.

She'd been building androids for Chronos for a long time; she'd started with her father years ago, before she started high school, learning how to plan them and put them together in his workshop. After she'd finished school, Chronos had scouted her out again to create a line of hyper realistic androids for defence and espionage, as well as renting them out to high paying clients for private use.

She leant over the plans on her workbench, double checking everything. Down the side, she'd listed all of the major faults her previous projects had had, listed by name and their number: Emilio, Number 3; Kranz, Number 4; Nizer, Number 5; Anubis, Number 6; Jenos, Number 7; Baldorias, Number 8; David, Number 9; Ash, Number 10; Beluga, Number 11; Mason, Number 12.

Her latest project, her Number 13, was stretched out on the table behind her, his chest cavity open. All of his circuits were properly connected and all she needed to do was install the chest plate and cover it over with the synthetic skin. Its eyes started up at the ceiling, unlit and unmoving. Its fingers were loosely curled over its palms, its nails perfectly formed, and the skin smooth and untouched.

It was a perfect replica of a human man.

She turned around and pushed some of the brown hair off of its forehead. Once its chest was covered, the average civilian could mistake it for a man who'd died young.

There was a knock at the workshop door and she quickly drew a sheet up over the unfinished android. Belze was already at the door, keying in the security code to open it. Both of them knew who it was, although he was early.

Their programmer was slightly worn and more than a little unnerving. Not long after Sephiria had started using him, the programmer had insisted on being spoken to like a human, with male pronouns and its own name. Considering her penchant for treating her androids almost like her children, giving them names and speaking to them as if they were people, Sephiria didn't feel as if she was in a position to refuse.

Everyone else called him A3-21; Sephiria called him Creed.

When inside, his movements tended to be slow and calculated, the equipment that made up his right arm being delicate and expensive to replace if it got damaged. For the most part, he looked human but there were elements that pushed him into uncanny; his movements were unnatural, his facial expressions not quite right.

"You're early, Creed," she said coolly.

"I was sent," he replied, "I was told to tell you that you're over your deadline."

She glanced up at the clock to see that it had struck 1:30 AM. The Elders had wanted Number 13 finished by midnight.

"An hour won't affect his operations," she said, "He's nearly finished anyway."

Belze drew the sheet back and fitted the chest plate into place, covering over the intricate circuits, the tubing and the pump. The plate was strong and flexible; Sephiria had designed it herself to allow excellent protection and mobility. She felt Creed's glowing blue eyes on her as she placed a square of the synthetic skin in the centre of 13's chest, watching as it flowed out over the chest to join seamlessly with the flaps of skin around the edge.

"And it's done," Belze said, grabbing the android by the shoulders and pulling it up into a sitting position. Its head flopped forward, exposing the socket at the back of its neck.

"That's your cue, Creed," Sephiria said, starting up her terminal and entering the time and date into 13's progress log: _1:37 AM, April 13__th__, Number 13 completed and programmed._

Creed lifted his right arm and pushed the programming drive, located in his right palm, into the port on the back of Number 13's neck. A soft hum built up in Creed's chest as his system got to work; his right arm was lit up with blue as he activated 13, transferring data, scanning the android's system for malfunctions and malicious software. After a few moments, a similar whir sounded from 13 and a message appeared along the length of Creed's left forearm: _Activation complete. The system is uncorrupted._

13's hands twitched at its sides as Creed withdrew the drive. Belze let go of the android's shoulders and it toppled backward, landing against Creed. It flexed its hands again and pushed itself up. Its face remains blank and expressionless and its eyes, like a doll's with irises crafted from golden glass, glowed yellow. Creed stepped backwards away from the table when Sephiria dismissed him with a wave of her hand. She and Belze switched places, with him going to the terminal to record everything and her going to ensure that the android was in working order.

"Can you hear me?" she asked, glancing at Belze to check that he was ready. He nodded an affirmative and she turned her attention back to 13.

"Yes," the android said, its eyes glowing a brighter yellow.

"Can you move your head?" she asked, holding up a pen and moving it from one side to the other. 13's eyes locked onto it and its head followed the movement. "And now your eyes." The head stilled and now just those glowing eyes followed the pen's movements.

Creed crept around the table to hover behind Sephiria. She didn't pay him much attention. He tended to take interest, for lack of a better word, in the activation of all of her androids. She heard Belze murmur under his breath as he typed up details of 13's functions into the log.

Sephiria took hold of 13's arm, bending the elbow, flexing the wrist. 13 curled its fingers on its own and watched her. When she let go of its arm, it held the position, waiting for a command.

"You can move your arms?" Sephiria said, "Both of them?"

13 stretched both arms out in front of it and it blinked for the first time as it examined its own hands, taking in the skin, the nails. She heard Creed's whirring increase in volume and speed and she looked round to see that he was scanning 13 as well. Belze was watching the programmer from behind the terminal, his eyes narrowed.

"Creed," she said, "You're done here."

Nothing about the programmer's demeanour changed as he backed out of the laboratory. His eyes remained fixed on 13 as he left, the heavy door sliding back into place in his wake.

"I've never trusted that robot," Belze said, "Or what he says to the Elders. Every time he reports to them, they have some sort of issue to see you about."

"If you're feeling uneasy," Sephiria said, turning her attention back to 13, "Then feel free to go and watch him."

She looked over at him again and caught sight of the shadows under his eyes, the tired lines in the corners.

"Go and get some sleep," she said, "I'll finish up here. He won't take long." When he looked like he was going to protest, she fixed him with a hard look, "That's an order."

He stood up, leaving the terminal on, and put a hand on her shoulder as he passed, "Don't let it keep you too late."

Once he left, the door hissing shut behind him, Sephiria looked to see 13 staring at her. The blank face is unnerving but that had been the case with all of her androids; the facial expressions would come later.

"Give me your introductory text," she instructed, watching as 13's eyes changed from that new glow to a dimmer light.

"I am a unique Chronos Number android, model 13," it recited, "I'm programmed for your defence, for data acquisition, data protection as well as for any private needs that you request from me. I'm able to handle a number of weapons, from handguns to knives. I'm adaptable as a work partner and only require 8 hours recharging using standard electrical ports. Would you like to know my name?"

Its hands had moved to cling onto the sheet that's pooled around its waist. It reminded Sephiria of the way a newborn would curl its fingers around the closest object. She grabbed hold of its ankles and lifted its legs off the bench so that its feet touched the ground. It stared down at the polished floor, curling its toes slightly. Sephiria slipped one arm around its waist and gently pushed it onto its feet before stepping back.

"Now take a few steps."

Still clinging to the sheet, 13 slowly put one foot in front of the other, its eyes fixed on the ground. Its steps are well-balanced and steady, showing how far her androids had come since Emilio who'd only managed the few steps of a wobbly newborn foal during initial tests.

"Excellent," she murmured when 13 completed its circuit of the laboratory, coming to a halt in front of her, "I think you're the most promising yet."

13 searched her face for a moment, drinking in the details. The glow in his eyes had now nearly completely faded so that the irises were only faintly illuminated.

"What's going to happen now?" it asked.

"I'll give you a name and we'll perform further tests before you're ready for work," she said with a small satisfied smile.

Her old school mates had teased her that she treated building a new android the same as having a new baby, from talking about its progress down to picking a name months before it's ready for one. While they were generally mildly interested in steps she took for each individual robot, they don't see much point in giving a name to a machine.

"Your name, Model 13," she said, "Is Train Heartnet."

His mouth curved up in an imitation of her smile and she saw a shadow of humanity in his face.

"My name is Train Heartnet."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N. This one didn't come as easily as the first, which is why it took a while. Weird.**

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A few months after he was programmed, Train was sent on his first private rent. The request came while Sephiria was repairing Emilio, his chest open and exposing the wiring and circuits, while he stared up at the ceiling. She only realised Clevar was even in her lab when Emilio's eyes rolled back to fix on him. Clevar stared back, his expression slightly unnerved at the sight of something so human being opened so casually.

"Hello Clevar," he said, his hand twitching as Sephiria tested the connection she'd repaired.

The discomfort in Clevar's face only increased as Emilio smiled at him. Sometimes, Sephiria wondered if her Numbers could be amused, truly amused; she was almost certain they could. She wasn't willing to truly investigate it, lest her findings have them all deemed as malfunctioning.

"Emilio," Sephiria warned, "Not with my hands here, please." She glanced up at Clevar, "Is there a problem?"

"A request," Clevar said, tearing his eyes away from Emilio, "For one of your units."

Sephiria raised an eyebrow and withdrew her hands from Emilio's chest cavity. His pump was working steadily again, rather than being irregular and weak, and his damaged circuits were replaced and repaired.

"Give it to me," she said, holding her hand out for the tan envelope. Clevar gave it over without a word and quickly backed out again, the pager at his belt buzzing.

Sephiria tore open the flap of the envelope and pulled out the pristine white paper folded inside. It was all neatly typed and Sephiria's eyes narrowed when she saw the date at the top; the request had been received three days ago and she was only seeing it now?

The request had come from a young woman, new in the city, who was looking for some back up in a job she had coming up. There was a name and some details of what the work would entail; bounty chasing, for the most part. It would be nothing difficult for her Numbers.

"Belze," she said, "Number 13 is ready for work outside of Chronos, yes?"

"Should be," Belze replied, putting Emilio back together, "It's been faultless since it was started up."

"Hmm," she pursed her lips and folded the paper up, slipping it back into the envelope, "We can consider it a test run; it's not a request beyond his capabilities. He should handle it without a problem."

Emilio was back on his feet, one hand pressed over his chest, pushing the seams of his skin together again; considering he was an older model, he regenerated much slower than the others. She glanced at him before stuffing the envelope into her pocket.

"I'll tell him myself," she said, "How are you feeling now, Emilio?"

"Much…better," Sephiria noted the pause, as if he'd been reaching for a word, and thought about whether his memory needed an update, "Thank you."

"Next time, come to us when you notice something's wrong," Belze said, "And _not_ after you shut down."

Emilio didn't say anything; he just nodded as he slipped his arms into his sleeves and pulled his overalls up to cover his shoulders again. Sephiria left him with Belze to go and find Heartnet. His favourite haunt was the shooting range, where he tested how well he could handle the guns that Chronos made available for him.

People eyed her lab coat as she walked past, stepping out of her way. She kept to herself for the most part, since that kept most prying questions at bay. It had taken her long enough to open up to Belze as more than a work partner.

The men guarding the shooting range allowed her in after only a glance at her ID card. The doors hissed and opened with a squeal of metal; one of the guards waved her through with one hand, tucking his rifle against his body so as not to drop it. Sephiria let her ID card fall against her chest again and stepped through the doorway into the darkened hall. The door screeched shut again and the fluorescent lights flickered on overhead.

The shooting range was empty, apart from the end of the room where Number 13 was sitting, examining a laser pistol. He looked up when she approached, fixing her with that glassy, golden gaze. There were marks now on his skin, burn marks from his handling of the energy weapons.

"Captain," he said. His voice sounded so much more natural and human now but still monotonous.

Sephiria glanced down the range to where the target was singed from the laser pistol, the marks small and round like cigarette burns. All of the burns were clustered around the very centre of the target. Sephiria raised an eyebrow, impressed; while all of the Numbers had some proficiency with a gun, none of them could shoot so many times with such precision. She'd never programmed them to be able to, since firearms were seen as human weapons, too sophisticated for robots to use. But she wanted her androids to be as perfect replicas of humans as possible, and if that meant going against the grain in the weapons they specialised in, so be it.

She hadn't expected such accuracy, though.

"Is there a problem, captain?" he asked. Sephiria looked back and him and those bright gold eyes. She wondered if gold had really been the best choice of eye colour; it jarred with how human the rest of him looked.

"You have an assignment," she said, drawing the envelope out of her pocket and holding it out to him.

He peeled the flap open and eased the paper out, his eyes moving rapidly as he read it. Sephiria could see him processing the information as his face went completely blank. The paper creased at the edges under his grip. After he'd read through the information another time, he looked back up to Sephiria.

"You want me to do this?"

Sephiria nodded, "It's time for you to gain experience outside of this building. Proper experience."

Train looked back down at the sheet of paper, scanning the information again, committing it to his memory banks. His mouth moves, silently forming the shapes of the words on the page. A small frown creased the skin between his eyebrows, the first sign of an expression Sephiria had seen on him in a week. He looked at her, his expression slightly puzzled.

"Who is Saya Minatsuki?"


End file.
